Breaches
by Kadira
Summary: Riffael fights for control, Riff fights for his sanity. Some very light RiffxCain


**Disclaimer:** Count Cain/Godchild, the universe and all character mentioned here are the property of Kaori Yuki No copyright infringement intended.**  
Spoilers:** set after Kafka, but contains spoilers for the whole series.**  
Summary:** Riffael fights for control, Riff fights for his sanity

**  
Breaches**  
by Kadira

_"Good night, sleep tight,  
Don't let the bedbugs bite."_

**I.**

The first time, Riff ignores it.

It happens some weeks after Miss Merry moves in with them and while Riff is happy about her presence and the joy she brings into their home (she makes Master Cain smile, which is the most important thing as far as Riff is concerned), life in the House Hargreaves has become much more busy as well. So Riff blames a certain exhaustion due to their changes in life. That, and he thinks that maybe the dreams he has lately are responsible for his drifting off for minutes while his body still functions automatically.

Nothing more.

**II.**

"Riff, I lost one of my tarot cards while we were outside a few days ago. Have you seen it?" Merry asks him, then explains further: "It was the Tower."

Riff thinks for a moment, tries to remember where he put it, then nods. "Would you mind waiting until after I prepared Master Cain's bath, Miss Merry? I will get it for you as soon as I am done," he says.

Merry-Weather smiles at him in that special way that lights the whole house. "Of course, I can wait! Thank you, Riff," she says and dances away.

**III.**

It is later that day, when Miss Merry has coaxed Lord Cain into a walk through the nearby neighborhood, when Riff finally has time to look for the card. It isn't with the book as he had thought, but in the drawer of the nightstand beside his bed.

Riff doesn't know how it got there and tries to ignore the reluctance he feels at the thought of giving it back.

_-It is our card. It belongs to us. You know it.-_

He shakes his head, ignores the voice he can't possible have heard and puts the card in his pocket, gently, as if it is a treasure, almost as carefully as Master Cain handles his potion bottles.

He doesn't know why he does it either, but when Merry-Weather thanks him with another one of her radiant smiles when he returns the card to her after dinner, he forgets about the strange unease that had taken hold of him earlier.

**IV.**

The dreams become more vivid and when he wakes up, Riff thinks that he can still smell fire and can still feel a certain and surprisingly strong urge within him to do... something.

After those nights filled with dreams, Riff is tired and feels his mind drifting, but to where he doesn't know. For the moment he is just grateful that it doesn't happen when Master Cain is there, because this is the domain where he can't afford not to pay attention.

**V. **

Gradually, over days, weeks, maybe even longer (it certainly feels much longer) the dreams turn into nightmares. The fire he can smell feels too hot instead of merely warming, with an overwhelming destructive force behind it, and the strong urge to do something now feels like an itch to hurt and to destroy. Not himself, but other people.

It worries Riff, but since thinking about those nightmares too much will make them only more real, he just sleeps less and spends more time doing other things. Fortunately, there are more than enough things to occupy oneself with in a house as big as the one of the Hargreaves family.

**VI.**

It happens some weeks later, after nights filled with all-consuming fires and darkness, during breakfast. He is just serving tea for Master Cain (and keeping Miss Merry's warm, because she is not there yet), when suddenly one of those slender hands is on his right arm, preventing him from leaving.

The hand feels warm, reassuring and painfully hot at the same time. A part of Riff takes comfort in the closeness, as always, while another part of him, a part he wasn't even aware of yet, seems to recoil.

"Master Cain?" Riff asks, keeping his voice steady and composed, despite the exhaustion that has become his constant companion during the last weeks (more constant indeed than Master Cain's presence, which Riff thought wouldn't be possible) and despite the sudden shock that there seems to be something within him that has such strange feelings.

"Are you feeling well, Riff?"

The green-golden eyes are fixed on him, piercing Riff in a way only the young Lord Hargreaves can. Riff smiles, tries to keep it as casual as normal. "Why wouldn't I be, Master Cain? Of course I am."

The hand on his arm stays for a moment longer, this time more comforting than anything else. Riff relishes the closeness that feels like an anchor -- for his mind and his thoughts and everything else that seems to have gone out of balance. This he knows. It makes him feel safe.

"Brother! Riff!" When Merry-Weather comes bouncing into the room, flowers in her hands, the moment is over. Master Cain withdraws his hand, ever so carefully, but his gaze shows that he doesn't quite believe Riff.

So Riff gives him another smile, one which he hopes will be more reassuring.

Cain isn't supposed to worry about him, a mere servant. Certainly not when he should try to enjoy his life and be happy. He had to endure so much pain already that this is the only thing Riff wishes for.

_-a mere servant! We are far more than that, you fool!-_

Riff's frown about something he can't possible have heard deepens for a moment as he leaves the room. By the time he returns - with Miss Merry's tea - it has vanished again. After all, there is no sense in worrying about something that can't be there.

**VII.**

Riff is quite dismayed to discover that some things are even more disconcerting than hearing voices that can't exist and nightmares that seem to become more vivid with every passing night (Riff realized some nights ago already that the stench of burning flesh in dreams is not the recipe for a peaceful night).

Like waking up in a place, hours later, without any recollection of how one got there.

At first it was just in the library, then in the kitchen, then the chilly garden, but Riff first really starts to worry when he wakes up in the corridor in front of Master Cain's bedroom.

His fears aren't eased by the fact that during these nights the nightmares are gone at least. He would rather be caught in the darkness and the fire than... this.

After these wanderings happen time and again, to the point that it turns almost into something natural, like some kind of unwanted ritual, Riff starts to wonder if he has maybe fallen to the affliction that is called sleepwalking.

**VIII.**

But maybe, Riff thinks after he wakes up again for a few nights in a row in his own bed, the dreams aren't that much better.

By now his nightmares don't just consist of fire and pain anymore, but Riff feels _hungry_. Not just hungry (he could easily solve that problem even in his dreams, he is sure about that), but he is hungry for blood and for violence.

For causing pain.

But even that isn't the worst.

The dreams always follow the same pattern, ending with Riff being caught in some dark hole, with no way out, no matter how loud he screams, until even his voice fades and there is nothing left of him anymore.

Most of time, it is then that Riff wakes up, soaked in sweat and trembling, trying desperately to hold onto himself.

The end of these dreams, the feeling of just _vanishing_, is even more terrifying than anything he has dreamt before, more than the blood and the pain and the hunger for violence.

It terrifies him even more than the memory of having died on the inside that time, before he met Master Cain and was brought back to life.

**IX.**

When Cain falls ill, Riff calls the family doctor of the Hargreaves immediately. It is not that he doesn't have the necessary medical knowledge, but he would never risk Cain's life. For nothing in the world. He has sworn to protect him after all and so, even when his insides seem to clench together when he opens the door and his eyes fall onto Doctor Allen's face, he thanks him for coming and asks him in.

But he can't bring himself to leave Master Cain alone with the Doctor and so he stays at Cain's side whenever the Doctor takes a look at him, always making sure that he won't do anything strange or get to take a look at the scars.

"Are you feeling well, Riff?" the Doctor suddenly asks him on the second day, after he tended to Cain.

"Of course I am, Sir," Riff is very much unwilling to share anything with the Doctor, certainly not his nightmares or the rest of the strangeness he is currently experiencing.

"I'm relieved to hear that," Doctor Allen says, and there is an unsettling glimmer in his eyes. "After all, what would the Earl do if his most trusted servant would fall sick?" Riff doesn't answer, but he takes a note of the unpleasant nuance in the other's voice.

Despite his pleasant manner towards Master Cain, Riff doesn't feel comfortable leaving them alone, even if it is on Cain's orders and to help him.

**X.**

When Riff hears the Doctor 's real name -

Jezebel Disraeli

- he feels once again the strong urge to do something, to _hurt_, something that is usually restricted to his dreams.

Riff has no idea why it happens, apart from the obvious, that the Doctor is an imposter and so a potential danger for Cain. But his feelings are much too strong to be justified by even that. He has never heard the name before and most certainly has never met the Doctor.

That's at least what he thinks.

Later, when Cain tells him not to ever leave his side again, Riff forces himself not to worry about that anymore and instead vows once more that he will do _everything_ in his power to protect Cain, for as long as he is alive. Together they can get through everything, even Lord Hargreaves' return (if it is indeed true and wasn't just another one of the Doctor's games).

And unlike in the past, when Riff had been too powerless to do something, this time he will really protect Master Cain, even if it means going against the head of the House Hargreaves himself. He won't allow anyone to hurt Cain anymore, especially not Master Alexis.

Riff ignores the hollow echo of a barely strangled laugh within him, and instead takes Cain's hand and helps him to his feet. When Cain slumps against him, Riff is worried that the Doctor still managed to poison him a last time, but then Cain's hands clutch at him, twist in his jacket.

"When I said that I would die if you ever betrayed me, I meant it," Cain says and he is shaking. After a moment of hesitation, Riff wraps his arms around the slender form, steadying and comforting at the same time. He is still thinking about a possible answer, when Cain continues: "Promise that you won't leave me again, Riff! _Ever_."

It's an order, so it demands an answer. For a moment, Riff pulls the young man closer against himself. "I will stay with you. Just as I promised you that day. I will always be by your side. I'll _never_ leave you, Master Cain." It is easy to say such things when one is convinced of them. And Riff is. His life belongs to Cain. _He_ belongs to the boy who has brought him back to life – body, mind and soul.

**XI.**

When one day Riff finds himself trembling and hurting when there is no reason for it (in fact, it is much worse than mere _hurting_; it almost feels as if his body is slowly consuming itself from the inside), he blames his unusually active nights, which still consist of nightmares when he succumbs to sleep, or walking around without being able to control it, or just staying awake, so that the former two can't come to pass.

It's easier than trying to find out just why he spilled the tea or let fall the plate with food, or why the stairs have turned into small mountains, which drain his energy after just a few steps, or to remember that the last time he tried to tie Master Cain's shoelaces, he could barely control his shaking hands.

He has no idea what is happening to him, which in itself is scary, but the situation is made even more unpleasant by the fact that it interrupts his work, making it difficult for him to take care of Cain.

Fortunately, it doesn't happen constantly and never lasts for long, but between that and everything else that is happening, Riff slowly starts to worry if something might indeed be wrong with him.

Maybe he should go and see a Doctor after all.

As soon as he has some time and can get away without Cain or Merry noticing his absence. After all, there is no reason to cause them to worry about him.

**XII.**

It is in the middle of the night and Riff sits in the library in front of the dying fire, trying to keep himself awake by reading a book, when suddenly the door opens and Cain enters.

Riff comes to his feet right away, forgetting even the book on his lap, which falls onto the floor. "Master Cain! Is everything all right? You shouldn't walk around during the night. It is too cold for that," he says, already slipping out of his robe and wrapping it around Master Cain, who is clothed in nothing more than one of his white shirts.

"I woke up. A dream. I couldn't sleep anymore. And you weren't in your room, so I went looking for you," Cain tells him, looking at him questioningly.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't sleep. Was it another nightmare?" Riff asks, leading Cain to the couch he had previously occupied. While Cain sits down, Riff picks up the book and puts it on the table, trying to force his hands to stay calm.

(why now?)

Cain's silence and his pale face are all the answer that Riff needs. "Master Alexis?" he asks, sitting down beside Cain.

After a moment, Cain nods. "The dreams come more often since I know that he is alive," he explains in a voice that sounds tired and resigned.

"We can't be sure about that yet, Master Cain," Riff tries to calm him and puts a hand on his shoulder, pressing gently. "Maybe the Doctor just said it because he knew what it would do to you."

Cain shakes his head. "I know that he is still alive. I always knew it. I had just hoped that—" He stops just before his voice can break. Riff understands and doesn't say anything more. He is just there for Cain, even if he doesn't want to talk anymore. Instead Cain leans back against Riff and allows Riff to comfort him with his presence.

"Do you have nightmares as well?" Cain finally breaks the silence.

It's not really a question that Riff has expected and he stiffens for a moment before answering, "Sometimes I dream of the fire." And countless other things, but that isn't something he wants to burden Cain with. He straightens up a bit. "You should return to bed, Master Cain. I don't want for you to fall sick."

"Later, Riff. I want to stay this way for some more time. It feels good. Like in the past."

Riff nods in agreement and keeps his arm wrapped around Cain, not only holding and anchoring him, but being held and anchored in return. For the first time in weeks, Riff can almost feel something like peace again, can temporarily forget about his nightmares, the voice and whatever else is happening to him.

Sunrise can't be far away when Cain's eyes close and he finally seems to fall asleep once more. Riff leans back, but keeps his arm wrapped around the slender body.

"You would tell me if something wasn't all right, wouldn't you, Riff?" Cain suddenly asks, not sounding like the young Earl he is, but like the lost boy Riff had met then.

"Of course I would," Riff says and even allows a reassuring smile to be heard in his voice. He doesn't want to lie to Cain, but there are things Cain doesn't need to know, worries that aren't his own and that he shouldn't be burdened with. God knows, he has enough to carry on his own, weights that Riff can't bear for him, no matter how much he wishes for it.

"Good," Cain says, voice sleepy, but somehow reassured. "Because you are mine. You promised. And if there is something that is tormenting you, you have to tell me about it."

Riff pulls the boy closer, lets the intimacy drain out the cold laugh he hears, the voice that always seems to be there, even though that is impossible (especially not from _within_ him, where it seems to have its origin). "I will keep that in mind, Master Cain," he says, forcing himself to smile.

**XIII.**

The following night Riff finds himself once more in front of Master Cain's door, this time even with his hand against the wood already, almost as if he wants to push the door open. As soon as he realizes what he is doing, Riff all but runs up the stairs again; back to his own room, as far away from Cain as possible.

When he reaches his room, he locks the door behind him, something he has never done before, but there is no other solution for his dilemma. He can't afford wandering off even further, doing things that he can't approve of, like scaring Miss Merry and Master Cain, or causing something even worse.

When Riff looks in the mirror, his whole body is shaking. He looks tired and pale, but at the same time his reflection seems to be a distorted image of himself, almost a stranger, with hard eyes and a cruel, knowing smile on his lips.

_-Do you really think it will be that easy? Locks won't stop me. I have been asleep for too long already. It is time that we trade places, Riff. Time for the true master of this body to come out once more.-_

Riff shatters the glass. It doesn't shut up the voice, but it subdues it a bit and at the very least, he doesn't need to look at himself anymore then, doesn't need to endure the cold gaze and the cruel smile, which doesn't promise anything good.

For anybody.

**XIV.**

Riff has no idea how he manages it, but he functions for the next few days and nights, despite the nightmares which have become even more vivid, a body that refuses to work the way it should, and the voice that rarely leaves him alone now. Instead it threatens and mocks him and their life and tells him that soon it will be over, for Riff and for Cain, because that is the way it has been planned all along and that this time he will be the one who will be responsible for hurting Cain.

However, Riff still somehow manages to fulfill his duty.

When Master Cain mentions that he looks pale and sick and asks him if he is really feeling well, the voice within him laughs, almost triumphantly, even as Riff nods and assures Cain that yes, everything is all right, that he is just a bit tired.

While he does all that, deep down Riff is starting to worry if he, just maybe, is falling to insanity. It is the only explanation he has and not even Miss Merry's biscuits ('Your favorites. My brother told me which ones you like best. I made them just for you, so that you'll feel better very soon!') and her brilliant smile can ease this particular fear.

**XV.**

Once more Riff has no recollection of moving (in fact, his last memory is of him being in the kitchen, making sure that the servants prepared everything for the next day), but when he becomes aware of his surroundings again, he is standing _in_ Master Cain's room.

In front of Master Cain's bed.

Cain is sleeping peacefully, seemingly not troubled by nightmares for once.

_-How easy would it be to kill him here and now. He is so very trusting when it comes to you. Don't you agree, Riff?-_

"No!" Riff whispers, even now mindful of where he is.

Usually, he would ignore the voice, as always, but it is getting louder, almost as if it tries to drown out Riff and there is the matter of _what_ it says. It's not Riff. It can't be him. He would never speak (or even think!) in such a way about Master Cain.

_Never_.

"No, you are right," Riff doesn't say, clear regret in his voice. "We can't. The Card Master still has plans for him, after all. But look at him. I'm sure there are other things we can do. I know how you feel about him. How you both feel about each other. Why don't we have some fun before we go to meet the Card Master?"

Pushing and seductive, and for the briefest moment Riff feels himself giving in, feels his will fading. It is almost like in his nightmares and with a terrible certainty that chills him, Riff realizes what the outcome will be, that he will just vanish, like in his dreams.

"Just as it should be," he says, but it isn't Riff, even if the voice is the same and even if the words come out of his mouth.

With the last of his strength, Riff stumbles back from the bed, away from Master Cain.

"No!"

The door feels heavy and almost impossible to open, but Riff eventually manages it and stumbles out of the room and into the corridor, where he collapses against the wall.

_-You are such a fool! Especially for someone who doesn't even exist!-_

Quieter again, but there's rage and anger, breaking over Riff, trying to drown him. Riff fights against it while he stumbles a step closer to insanity when the door to Cain's bedroom closes again and he is shut out, left alone with... this.

Yet, there's also gratefulness, because Riff doesn't want to be near Master Cain, not when he is in such a state and a danger to him.

With effort, he picks himself up from the ground and goes to the entrance.

**XVI.**

The cool night air doesn't clear Riff's mind, nor does it stop the voice, nor does it help with his body, which just wants to collapse where he stands.

He is leaning against a tree, breathing heavily and desperately wishing that it would just stop – all of it, when he hears a far too familiar voice: "Hello, Riff. Or is it Riffael?"

The blond hair seems to glow in the night and the eyes regard him with something that looks like amused-curiosity. "Doctor," Riff presses out, then falls to his knees as his body is wracked by another wave of weakness and pain.

An indecent curse escapes not only him, but the voice within him as well.

_-Just what did you do to my body?-_

"I didn't do anything!"

"It seems to have started again," the Doctor observes calmly. "You don't look nearly as well as the last time we talked. But I have always wondered about something and maybe you can satisfy my curiosity - how does it feel to lose control over yourself, Riff?"

"Do you know what is happening to me?" Riff asks instead of answering, voice shaking. With a lot of effort, he manages to come to his feet again, supporting himself with a hand against the rough trunk of a tree. "Is this your doing?"

The Doctor smiles at that. "It is your own doing. Yours, and that of the Card Master. You might not believe it at the moment, but this was your own choice, Riffael. But you should come with me. Your condition is critical and as much as I would like to see you dead, the Card Master still has need for you."

"Damn you, Jezebel!" the voice within Riff says, once more taking control over him. "I will kill you for whatever you did to me!"

Riff wants to say something, wants to put an end to the insanity that has come over him, but he can't make himself speak, can't bring up the strength to even form a thought. It is like before, in his dreams.

Within him, he hears himself, no, the voice - something - screaming, fighting, and he feels himself fading some more. No. Not yet. Never. It can't happen. It shouldn't. He turns around when he feels the prick of a needle against his neck, his arm shooting forward to catch the offender. He is too slow. The Doctor -

_-Jezebel. I will get you for this!-_

(a low growl, like from an injured animal)

- moves aside and Riff is falling. He sees the sodden ground coming closer, so close that Riff thinks he can smell the damp earth.

But then, before he can hit it, the ground is parting, making way for an abyss that is filled with fire and laughter and pain.

Riff falls into it.

**XVII.**

_-Damn you, fight! Don't just lie there sleeping! Let _me_ out at least!-_

It's the voice that wakes up Riff. He isn't in pain anymore, but he finds himself in a nightmare that seems even more vivid and even more horrifying than the dreams that have plagued him for the last months.

The first thing he notices, even before he has fully opened his eyes, is a strong stench of blood. It seems to have laid itself over his senses, as if it wants to smother him. When Riff turns his head to find the source of it, he sees that he is surrounded by the blood. It's bright red and thick and just _everywhere_, left and right, below and above him.

Worse than that - it isn't just blood, but there are heads and bodies, not in one piece either, sprawled all over the ground. Riff feels nauseated and he isn't sure if that is preferable to the pain he had felt before.

His mind still dazed, Riff tries to move, but then he discovers that he can't, that he is somehow restrained, both, arms and legs. When he looks, he sees that he isn't just restrained, but it seems as if he has become _one_ with the horrible machine that constricts him, as if his arms and legs have melted with it.

Impossible. A dream. Another nightmare. But he has to wake up, has to be back when Cain wakes up, has to make sure that he will be there, in case there will be more nightmares.

"Master Cain," he whispers. The voice within him laughs. Cruelly, degrading.

_-Even now and here, when we are surrounded by blood, when they are doing _this_ to us... You just don't want to understand, do you?-_

**XVIII.**

The next time Riff opens his eyes, he is laying somewhere on the hard ground and when he finally manages to come to his feet, he finds himself face to face with a man he has come to loathe, despite his initial gratefulness. A part of him still is grateful, because it is thanks to that man that Riff met the boy who brought him back to life, but the horror he brought upon his own son far outweighs Riff's appreciation.

Alexis Hargreaves observes him calmly, with a slight smile tugging around his lips. "Hello, Riff. It was almost too late this time. You really should listen to your body and do as we tell you. Of course, you wouldn't know about it. You are not even a doll and someone who doesn't exist, can't remember. But I can't have you die yet. It is still too early. You still need to be with Cain for some more time, until he is ready."

"Lord Hargreaves," Riff brings out, his surprise tempered by the difficulties he seems to have to holding onto his consciousness. "You are alive, Sir."

"Never one to miss the obvious, Riff. Then again, this is the sign of a good manservant. And you are perfect, in all aspects. We made sure of that, after all. Just the best for the House Hargreaves and especially for my dear son. At least for the time being," Master Alexis says and the accompanying laugh sends a chill down Riff's spine.

"You played us all along. Master Cain was right," Riff says and can't quite prevent the note of aversion that mixes with his surprise.

"Is that how you show your gratefulness to the person who just saved your life? Again?" Master Alexis asks, voice hard, but there is still a smile on his lips, now turned cold, showing the perfect fakeness of it. "I trust that you feel better now that we fed you?"

"Fed?" Riff looks at the other man, confused. Then the pieces come together, finally completing a very dreadful image as he remembers Weatherby Castle, the vampires and what Miss Merry and Master Cain had told him about it later. "The blood...," he brings out, feeling himself losing color. "That can't be. Why...?"

Master Alexis smiles, but instead of answering, continues: "If you don't mind, I would like to have a word with Riffael. I still need his report on my most beloved son."

Riff's eyes narrow as his worry for Cain overshadows the worry about his own, rather distressing situation. "What do you want from Master Cain?"

"Such loyalty for a child God himself rejected. You really are my masterpiece. But it is time for you to take a break. Go to sleep. After the last weeks, you probably need it."

Riff pushes aside the horror that still chills his bones and straightens up. "I don't understand what you are talking about, Master Alexis," he says, his voice only wavering very slightly, "but I'm not going anywhere. I won't allow you to hurt Master Cain any further."

Lord Hargreaves just laughs. "You truly entertain me, Riff. But let me assure you that this time I won't be the one who will hurt him. Compared to what you will do to him, everything I did will pale in comparison."

"I would never hurt Master Cain," Riff says. "Whatever you have planned, I won't allow it to come to pass, Sir." He would protect Cain. It is what he has sworn to do. To Cain and to himself. With his life. "And now I think I should better take my leave," Riff says, suddenly not feeling very much like getting even more answers. He needs to get away from here, away from the nightmare that Lord Hargreaves has implanted on their life, from the horror he has caused Riff, from the threat against Cain – and from the image of blood and heads and limbs.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Riff. I can't just let you go, not with the knowledge you gained tonight and not before I get a chance to talk to Riffael. You know that, don't you?" he asks, his voice sounding gentle on the surface, but there's also mocking.

The worst –

- Riff _knows_. He knows what is happening here, knows what Lord Hargreaves is saying, that his words are not mere tales of insanity and horror.

Here and now, Riff knows that the voice within him isn't just a figment of his imagination, but real, very much so.

_-In fact, I'm much realer than you are. And now be a good boy and let me out! I have a few questions for the Card Master about certain rituals he performed on me!-_

Riff shakes his head, knowing that he can't do that. No matter how hard the voice within him fights for control, no matter how tempting it would be to give in. Riff knows that letting the voice out won't mean anything good.

He can't let it out, can't allow it to overpower him.

"No," he finally says, voice firm and hard.

Lord Hargreaves sighs. "Always the same. You can't just give in. If your stubbornness wouldn't be so essential for your duty, I would have changed it years ago already. Justice, would you please?" he then says and stands up himself. Out of the shadow of his throne-like chair, a woman steps. Dark haired and beautiful, despite the cloth covering her eyes.

"Of course, Card Master."

Riff freezes for a moment, then, with the older Lord Hargreaves so close that he just would need to reach out to touch Riff (and he does it, too!), Riff jerks away and takes a step back.

One, two, three, four, then it's over.

Arms grab him from behind, trying to hold him still, to keep him in place. It is then that Riff starts fighting. He has never been much of a fighter -

_-you have no idea who you are or what you can do!- _

(a sneer)

- but he can't let them win. No matter the insanity currently surrounding him, no matter what Lord Hargreaves implied, he has something to fight for, something he needs to protect.

Something that validates his existence.

Something that proves that he is _alive_.

Riff doesn't stand a chance against the countless hands that he can't see.

"Jezebel, would you please. It doesn't look as if he leaves us a choice," Lord Hargreaves says, voice thick with something that could easily be mistaken as regret, if it wouldn't be for the cold, calculating gaze with which he looks at Riff.

"Of course, father."

_Father_? Certainly it couldn't—

Then Lord Hargreaves is in front of Riff and Riff can't focus on anything else but the other man anymore, can't even turn his head to break the eye contact. He is completely caught in the other's overwhelming presence, helpless like a fly in a spider's web.

The man's hands feel too warm as he opens his shirt. Riff's teeth clench at the uninvited intimacy. "What you do you want from me, Master Alexis?" he asks, voice tense and shaking all at once.

"Ah, Riff. I told you already, didn't I? But you won't give in. Of course, that is what makes you the perfect bait for my son, that which will destroy him in the end," Lord Hargreaves says, one of those warm hands still on Riff's chest, right over his heart.

Riff wants to say more, wants to deny those accusations, wants to tell Lord Hargreaves that he would certainly never do anything that would hurt Cain, but then the Doctor returns. Riff's eyes widen at the horror of what he brings with him. "No!" he brings out, voice no more than a whisper at the hot-glowing iron in the Doctor's hands.

"You are just too stubborn for your own good, Riff. A true work of genius. Perfect in all aspects," Lord Hargreaves says, then releases Riff and steps back. "But don't worry," he says as he takes the hot iron from the Doctor's hands, "you won't remember anything later. That should be consolation enough."

There is a smile on Master Alexis' face and Riff doesn't know if that or the iron is more terrifying. Then there is only pain, burning, spreading from his chest to... everywhere.

Riff feels darkness closing in to the stench of his own burning flesh, the only thing maybe even more unpleasant than the blood from before.

"Justice, would you please?" Through the tears in his eyes, he can see the woman from before moving towards him, gracefully. When she uncovers her eyes and looks at him, all of Riff's nightmares become true.

_-Finally!-_

Louder, more forceful than any time before during the last weeks.

Riff feels his last hold on reality and consciousness fleeting.

No!

He needs to stay in control, needs to make sure that Cain will be protected, that he won't be subjected to this insanity, needs to—

Blackness comes over Riff, claims him.

"Finally!"

**XIX.**

Warm and comfortable, despite a certain weight on his body...

These are the first things Riff notices upon waking up.

When he opens his eyes, he is greeted by the view of Master Cain, who seems to be asleep, his head pillowed on Riff's stomach. For a moment, Riff allows himself the luxury of just observing him, then he reaches out with his hand and, after a short moment of hesitation (there are things you just don't do, certainly not during the broad daylight. Unspoken rules when it comes to the relationship between master and servant, regardless of the connection between you), he strokes over Cain's head, lets soft strands of hair run through his fingers.

The familiar action allows Riff to wake up enough that he can wonder about just why he is here, in his bed, when at least half of the day must have passed already (if he can trust the brightness of the sun that shines into the room).

That discovery is enough to let Riff sit up with a jolt. In the last moment, he remembers that he isn't alone and tries to restrict the movement, so that Master Cain won't be woken up so roughly. But the consideration comes too late and Cain wakes up with a disgruntled sound. Apart from being unfocussed, there's also dismay in the green-golden gaze.

"I'm very sorry, Sir," Riff says when their eyes finally meet, feeling more than just a bit guilty. "I'm just a bit... Just what am I doing here?" he then asks. "I should have been up hours ago already..."

He sounds as confused as he feels, and the short moment of relief in Cain's expression turns grim. "One of the servant girls found you this morning laying on the meadow, soaked. What did you do outside?"

"I... I don't know," Riff finally admits, and he really doesn't. It is as if there is some kind of pressure on his mind that makes it impossible for him to recall the events of the previous night or even the last hours. He _thinks_ that he remembers seeing or hearing something, but he isn't sure and maybe he just wanted to have some fresh air before going to bed. "I was outside?"

"Don't you remember how you got there?" When Riff shakes his head, Master Cain continues, "You shouldn't go outside if you aren't feeling well. I don't recall giving you permission to fall sick on me!" His voice is heated, sharp and his eyes gleam, but Riff can hear the underlying worry in the voice and in the words, even if it weren't for the hand on his arm, pressing a tad more forcefully than what would be necessary. "You should have told me if you didn't feel well! You promised me that you would do that!"

"I'm sorry, Master Cain. I don't know what happened," he says, truthfully, and puts his hand on the one that is still clutching his arm. "I don't think that I felt unwell, otherwise I wouldn't have gone out." Not that Riff can even remember going out, but that is unimportant for the moment. "I do apologize for worrying you."

"You haven't appeared well for a few weeks already and I can't have my manservant fall sick on me because he doesn't get treatment. I'm going to call a doctor!" Cain says, voice determined as he releases Riff's arm.

Something within Riff knots together. He doesn't know why he feels such a strong distaste at the mere idea of being treated by a doctor and can't remember if he ever felt that way before (probably not, because it was his field of study), but he knows that he _can't_ be seen by one.

Before Cain can move away, Riff takes his hand in his own.

"I appreciate the thought, but that won't be necessary, Master Cain. I'm completely myself again. I was probably just a bit... exhausted." Or something like that at least. "I'm feeling much better now."

Cain looks at him doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

He doesn't believe him and Riff can't fault his doubt. Wandering off and sleeping in the garden is not something Riff usually does. "I am sure."

Finally, after a moment that seems to last an eternity, Cain nods. "But if something happens again, I _will_ call a doctor," he says and it is something between a plea and an order, making it impossible for Riff to do anything else but nod. Riff presses Cain's hand once, before releasing him.

"Merry was worried about you as well, so you had better get up," Cain says. Then, before Riff can even nod, he adds, voice slightly softer: "If you feel like it."

Riff nods. "I'm fine. I will be with you in a moment, Master Cain."

"Good, because the tea the other servants make doesn't taste anything like yours," Cain says, voice grouchy, then turns around and leaves the room without looking back.

Riff smiles. As disconcerting as it is that he has no recollection of the last night, nothing of this really matters as long as he is here, with Master Cain and Miss Merry. It is one of the very few things Riff is sure about.

Unconsciously, his hand wanders to his chest and the old wound there that suddenly starts to give off a wave of pulsating pain. Riff knows what it means. The weather will change. It is the same as all the other times, ever since he had been burned there during the night of the fire.

**FIN**


End file.
